


North Pole Hideaway

by GloryandGore



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: AU, Christmas, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:34:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27703522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GloryandGore/pseuds/GloryandGore
Summary: Eve Polastri is the owner of ‘North Pole Hideaway’ - a failing inn which has become the target of an evil local businessman. After a bounty is placed on Eve’s head - Mi6 sends an unlikely foe for her protection.Or, your cursory lovers to enemies to lovers again Christmas fic.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 10
Kudos: 71





	North Pole Hideaway

**Author's Note:**

> Did someone say Christmas Villaneve???

The Alaskan morning greets Eve Polastri much like it always does - cold, white, lonely, and quiet. 

The silence has never bothered her, but as of late, the frequency of it or lack thereof has been ominous. The soundtrack to Eve’s personal horror film - a precursor to her demise. 

Silence meant no guests, and no guests meant no money, and no money meant - 

It meant Eve was fucked. 

This was the 6th month in a row that her inn failed to meet the occupancy required to turn a profit. 

Eve was now just _barely_ holding on. Making only enough to hold off the debt collectors and land developers that haunted her every month. They visited frequently, sometimes to rub Eve’s massive failure in her face, other times, in efforts to reach an amicable settlement on her property. 

Of course, Eve refused to settle - she hated them and everything they stood for. They were the human manifestation of greed. Relentless in their goal of turning every piece of habitable land into upscale condominiums and shopping malls. 

Most disturbing of all was the rate at which they were succeeding. In the last four years alone, Eve had witnessed the ousting of 5 small inn owners in North Pole and it was becoming abundantly clear that she was next on their list. 

Eve did everything she could to hold them off. Basically becoming an expert in avoidance and business maneuvering. She had drained her savings and used the last of her divorce settlement to keep the place running. She even called in a few favors from friends, maxed out on business loans - and still, she was failing. 

Any sane person would have given up by now, but Eve couldn’t. 

Going back to her old life was not an option - not anymore. There were too many burned bridges now, too many skeletons in her closet, too many people who would love to put a bullet through her head. 

‘North Pole Hideaway’ was all she had left. 

It was supposed to be _her_ legacy. Proof that she could do something right, something _good._ She flat out refused to let such a beautiful place be corrupted by fancy buildings and men with no respect for the environment. 

This place was hers. 

They’d have to pry it from her cold, dead hands.

Her inn sat on a beautiful piece of property. Secluded from the prying eyes of the public, blanketed by acres of rich foliage and trees and perched directly in front of a lake that went on for miles. It had character - with its massive wooden structure reinforced by stone, and lengthy glass windows that showcased the beautiful Alaskan landscape. 

‘North Pole Hideaway’ had that authentic rustic Christmas charm that few could successfully replicate. From the minute you entered the building - you felt warm, welcomed, and cherished. 

It was as if God himself lived there. 

Nothing on earth compared to this serene cocoon. 

It was paradise, and still, it was circling the drain, and the sharks were circling it. 

Every day she woke to the roaring silence of her failing business was torture. There was no surge in bookings, no heavy influx of guests, just the hollow sound of failure and as she sits on her porch, staring out at the frozen lake, she thinks this month may be the one. 

The one where she loses. 

It’s Christmas season, and normally North Pole Hideaway would be bustling with families looking to spend the holiday in North Pole, Alaska. But as of late, it seemed like North Pole Hideaway was on nobody’s radar, and it was totally the doing of her greedy competitors. 

They had essentially made her business obsolete. 

Eve was getting by solely on the support of a few regulars, locals, and sometimes the occasional tourist. 

Eve was nowhere near the occupancy required to pay her bills and taxes this month, and panic was beginning to set in. She had no more tricks up her sleeve. 

It seemed like only a Christmas miracle could save her now. 

Eve exhales, watching the ghost of her breath condense into the atmosphere.

She needed a cigarette. 

Turning back into her cabin, she’s stopped by the sound of a car engine approaching from the distance. 

Eve knows the sound anywhere. The distinct gurgle of the car’s aged engine alerting anyone within a 2 mile radius of his impending presence.

_Raymond._

Eve sighs.

“This is just what I needed to start my fucking morning,” She spits into the ether, hopeful that whatever god was watching over her would hear and feel insulted. 

She reaches for her shotgun instead. 

\-----------------

  
  


Raymond steps out of the car, not waiting for an invitation before making his way up the four steps to Eve’s cabin. 

He blanches when he sees Eve emerge from the doorway and onto the porch, shotgun in hand. 

“You’re not welcomed here,” Eve says, clutching the gun menacingly with both of her hands. 

“Do you even know how to use that?” He laughs, trying to mask the way he’s clearly uncomfortable.

He takes a few calculated steps backward off the porch, putting some distance between himself and Eve.

“What do you want?” Eve questions - ignoring him completely. 

Out of the all developers she’s had visit her - Raymond was by far the most persistent, and the worst. 

“Looks like you’re not going to be able to pay your bills this month, Eve.” 

He’s smug as he looks around at the empty parking lot. 

Eve’s body goes red hot - a unique combination of anger and embarrassment present through her facial expression. 

“You may call me Ms. Polastri.” She says through clenched teeth.

His face twitches. 

“We’ve tried to be nice, we really have, _Ms. Polastri -_ but, you’ve left us no choice.” 

Eve clutches the gun a fraction tighter - and Raymond notices. 

He steps backward again.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“I’ve spoken with my superiors. We’ve all agreed that this has been going on for far too long. If the bank doesn’t get what’s owed to them by the end of the month … in _full._ Let’s just say … that you may want to start looking for somewhere else to live.”

“Bullshit.”

“I would watch my back if I were you.” He says vaguely - and it makes the hairs on the back of Eve’s neck stand up. 

He throws a folder at Eve’s feet, though Eve doesn't move to pick it up.

She’s fucked now, and she knows it and Raymond knows it. 

“If you sign and turn it over now, we may be able to work something out. No one has to get hurt.”

  
  


Another threat. 

  
  


It’s patronizing and rubs Eve in all the wrong ways - although she believes that that was in fact his intention. 

Did they know who Eve was?

Was this really a can of worms they wanted to open? 

“This could all be over with a few swipes of a pen ...”

“You need to leave now.” She wasn’t going to give in to intimidation tactics - especially from an amateur like Raymond. 

His first mistake was thinking he could threaten her and get away with it. 

Eve is vibrating with rage now. She’s about 30 seconds away from pulling the trigger, consequences be damned. 

“Sign the papers.”

Her thoughts aren’t her own as she takes a step forward, cocking the gun, pointing it directly at him. 

This catches him off guard, startling him and causing him to trip and fall back flat on his ass in the snow. 

“Leave.” She growls, stooping to the floor to throw the papers back at him.

“And tell your bosses, they can fuck themselves.”

There’s a feral look in her eyes now - and Raymond isn’t as sure as he once was that Eve wouldn’t pull the trigger. 

He’s trembling as he rushes to pick up the folder and its now scattered contents. 

“This charade won’t change your fate, Eve.” 

He’s careful not to take his eyes from Eve’s as he walks back towards his car. 

He was obviously scared shitless. 

“ _Good.”_ She thinks, tightening her hold on the gun as he retreats to the safety of his car. 

He rolls the window down to get one final message out. 

“Tik, tok, Eve.” He sings, sparing her one final smug glance before he waves goodbye, speeding away. 

“Fuck You!” Eve screams back, her voice cracking at the end - surely waking up the 6 people who found themselves as guests at North Pole Hideaway. 

And he laughs. 

Actually laughs at Eve as he drives away - and that triggers something in her. 

Something that she’d fought to keep dormant, something that she uprooted her entire life to fight and stow away. 

Here Raymond was, threatening her livelihood, her legacy, her life. He had absolutely no idea who she was beyond the owner of ‘North Pole Hideaway’ - and that should have frightened him. 

He was making a terrible miscalculation. 

One that Eve would surely have to rectify before the day was over.

\---------------

It’s been hours since her encounter with Raymond - and Eve has made up her mind. She’s had the entire workday to mull over the details of their conversation, his smug face and his stupid folder. 

His threats played on a loop in her mind, 

_“I would watch my back if I were you,”_

She was going to take matters into her own hands - neutralize the threat before it became a real problem. 

She stares at herself in the bedroom mirror, then at the pistol in her hands - her ‘just in case’ piece. It’s untraceable, semi-automatic, sleek, and efficient. She’s used the exact same model before, though she was much younger then and a lot more optimistic about her future. 

She slips it into the waistband of her pants and then throws on an unassuming black parka and matching hat before leaving the house. 

\-----------------

She’s halfway to Raymond’s house when her phone rings - she ignores it in favor of rehearsing the details of Raymond’s death for the thousandth time. 

She will leave her truck parked on the curb, pick his lock, catch him off guard - hopefully sleeping, and deliver two suppressed shots, one to his head, and the other to his heart. 

Easy work. 

But then it rings again, 

And again, 

  
  


And - 

  
  


“Hello?!” She answers, not bothering to look at the caller id.

“Oh, Eve, finally, I was beginning to think I was too late,” Carolyn Martens says on the other end. 

“Carolyn?” They didn’t really have much to talk about these days - but Eve was still considered a highly valuable Mi6 asset. It was always in Carolyn’s best interest to check up every once in awhile, though she usually called between the hours of 9-5. 

“Yes.”

A beat. 

“What do you want? I’m kind of in the middle of something.” 

“Well, Eve, it appears as if there has been a hit put out on you.” She’s blunt and to the point. 

Her stomach turns - 

“That son of a bitch,” She says out loud.

“Yes, Eve, it appears as if you’ve made some real enemies in North Pole, but not to worry, we -”

“I have it handled,” She gruffs into the phone - unsure of where Carolyn was going with her thought. 

“Not to worry, Eve,” She starts again, “we’ll be sending someone out for your protection. It’s in everyone’s best interest that you remain alive. Even if it is in that god awful place.” 

“I have it handled,” She says again, more forceful in her delivery. She hopes that Carolyn can take the hint and look the other way - she's never had a problem with it before. Eve really didn’t need Mi6 at her back surveilling her every move like they had in the past. 

“Nonsense Eve, it’s already been put in motion - whatever you are planning, I strongly suggest you reconsider - or shall I remind you of our agreement?” 

It’s presumptuous, and condescending how Carolyn says it - and god, Eve had always hated how she seemed to know Eve’s intentions before Eve did herself. 

Eve pauses and sighs in resignation. 

“Eve, you mustn't be so predictable, go home and enjoy the holidays.” She says with a tone of finality that has a grudgeful Eve reluctantly making a U-turn and heading back home. 

\-----------------

Eve’s cabin sits a little ways off from the main building of North Pole Hideaway. It’s far enough that she’s able to maintain some separation from her professional and home life, but close enough that she could get there at a moment's notice. 

As she nears her cabin she notes two things - firstly, that there are several lights on that weren’t when she left home no more than an hour ago, and second, that there was an unfamiliar car parked in her driveway. 

This puts her on high alert. 

_“Well, Eve, it appears as if there has been a hit put out on you.”_

Eve weighs her options. She has the element of surprise and the advantage of knowing the territory. Not to mention the pistol securely tucked into her waistband, and the backup knife strapped to her ankle. 

She was better equipped than most to handle these types of situations and thinks that she can take out two, maybe three men with the tools she has at her disposal - that is, if she catches them by surprise and makes no mistakes.

She fancies her chances. 

Eve kills the truck’s engine, and turns off the headlights, leaving the truck where it was, blocking the only escape route for her attacker. 

She takes a deep breath before stepping out into the unforgiving nighttime frost. 

Her steps are calculated and methodical as she nears the cabin. The snow softly crunches beneath the heel of her boots, and Eve is careful to not allow the sound to get too loud - although she thinks it wouldn’t matter, not with her attacker as irreverent as they are - audibly rifling through her belongings, and making a hardly discreet show of being an unwanted guest. 

As she nears the front door, she hears the distinct sound of the person ascending the steps to the second floor of her home, and she takes that opportunity to slip through the front door. 

There’s an unfamiliar blood red coat strewn over the chair - undoubtedly that of a woman, one with extraordinary taste and an eye for fashion.

_Could it be -_

Eve pauses for a moment and then - 

Her stomach lurches.

Briefly, she picks up the coat - too curious not to check. She indulgently moves her thumbs over the soft fabric before bringing it to her nose and inhaling. 

_Fuck._

Eve shakes her head - she didn’t have time to consider the implications. 

Perhaps, it was just a coincidence. Although somewhere in the back of her mind - she knew. 

She continues her silent entrance into the cabin. Scanning quickly for any accomplices before coming to a rest beside the bottom of the steps - hidden from the view of anyone descending said steps. 

She withdraws and readies her pistol. 

Adrenaline begins to blossom in her veins, supercharging her instincts and kickstarting her heart - she hadn't realized how much she'd missed this feeling. 

Eve’s back is flat against the wall as she waits, noting that the footsteps were nearing the stairs again. 

The steps from her intruder come quickly down the stairs -

and they sense Eve a fraction too late - 

She delivers an incapacitating blow square in their stomach. 

Her attacker groans, then keels over, stumbling down the final step, hunched over and presenting themselves for the slaughter. 

Eve goes in for the close - cracking them directly in the back of the skull with the butt of her pistol - rendering the woman unconscious. 

She thinks that maybe she should’ve shot her right then and there but Eve wasn’t a _total_ monster. 

She also maybe had a reputation for playing with her food before eating.

And wouldn’t it just be _lovely_ to have a chat with her former lover before slitting her throat? 

Her suspicions are confirmed when she turns the woman over onto her back - she’s still breathing, which is good. 

_Villanelle._

Eve is buzzing with adrenaline and the ghost of something else as she regards Villanelle’s unconscious form. Even knocked out cold and possibly concussed - she looked _good, almost_ angelic, although Eve knew just how much of a demon she could be. 

She steps over Villanelle’s body, quickly ascending the steps to her bedroom, grabbing her professional-grade handcuffs, and rope.

Common sense was telling her to kill Villanelle before she woke.

But Eve was nothing if not sentimental.

She wanted the satisfaction of looking Villanelle in the eyes when she did it. 

  
  


\-----------------

Villanelle wakes with a sharp sting against her left cheek and a cracking headache. 

Eve slaps her again - and Villanelle feels that one fully - even in her minimally conscious state. 

“Owww,” She groans. She brings her left hand up to her cheek to soothe the blow only to realize she can’t. Looking down, Villanelle discovers she’s restrained - handcuffed and tied to a flimsy wooden chair. 

She begins to laugh - but the pain in her stomach won’t allow anything more than a pathetic cough. 

It takes her a few more moments to reorient to her environment, and when she does - she’s rendered breathless, not because of the ropes tight against her chest, but because of Eve Polastri - pistol in hand, staring her down with an absolutely mad look in her eye. It was sexy - it was frightening, it made Villanelle’s chest constrict, her toes curl and her body squirm. 

_God, did she miss Eve._

Memories of exactly _why_ she’s in Eve’s house also come back in jagged sequences, 

_“Carolyn,_

_Eve,_

_Hit,_

_Protection,_

_Alaska.”_

Right - she was supposed to be - 

“Why are you here?” 

Villanelle licks her lips and drinks Eve in. 

It always used to drive Eve mad with want - being desired and objectified by her. 

Villanelle wondered, as she stared at Eve’s breasts pushing wonderfully against the black turtleneck she wore, if she still felt that way? 

She thinks the answer is yes, as she watches Eve avert her gaze, trying to hide the creeping redness in her cheeks. 

Villanelle chuckles. 

_This was going to be fun._

_“_ _Hi, Eve.”_

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hello again! im experimenting with writing something more than 3 chapters long so thanks in advance for coming along for the ride!!
> 
> pls let me know what you think and what you wanna see next! xoxxoxoxo
> 
> also come tweet me @gloryandgour


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